Toward
by Rotblume
Summary: Five small steps Peter took in Stiles' direction. First Part of the Series "Forward".
1. Open Up

Stiles had never before been at Peter's apartment. Not once. That thought had crossed his mind before, but now, on his way home after a long day, it hit him like a hammer.  
Everyone knew where he lived and he knew where everyone else lived. Everyone, but Peter.

He probably shouldn't read too much into that fact, but it nonetheless hurt to know Peter didn't trust him enough yet.  
Maybe it was some kind of self preservation not to let him know where he lived. This way Stiles at least wasn't able to burn the house down.

Stiles tried to convince himself that it didn't matter. It was just natural for Peter to be cautious, even if they had been together for almost two months now.  
Well, he wasn't even sure whether they were together. They had just met a few times but Stiles enjoyed Peter's company and he thought he had made that clear, wondering whether they could go out again after that first time.

At some point after their arguments had turned into banter, each one teasing the other, Peter had asked whether he wanted to drink a coffee with him. It was plain and innocent, just them going into a cafe they both liked.  
They had talked, about school and the Pack, about movies and books, about anything and everything. They had also been able to sit in silence, looking out of the window they sat next to or watching the people in the little cafe.  
It was not the tense silence from before, no, Stiles had felt calm and content. He hadn't felt the need to fidget, hadn't felt the urge to fill the silence between them and talk his head off.

It was a simple 'we should do this again' that he offered, when leaving. Stiles had felt Peter's eyes boring in his back then, but he hadn't turned around. Two days later they were eating ice cream, strolling around the city and taking a walk through a nearby park.  
There weren't many people that Stiles could have serious discussions with, just to laugh the next moment about some snarky comment or an inside joke about their little world. It was nice to talk freely, not having to keep werewolves a secret in front of his father, not having to keep his snide remarks to him when planning with Scott, not having to try and impress Lydia.

He had learned some things about Peter, too, though, of course, the other one would not just open up. Stiles hadn't expected him to and he wasn't sure what he had expected at all.  
Their hands had brushed, they had sat together, but it was Stiles who had snuggled up to Peter, so he would put an arm around him. It was Stiles who had first kissed Peter, a thank you after a great evening. In fact, most of the recent happenings had started with him.

Pulling over in the dark, Stiles grabbed his mobile and blindly started dialing the by now familiar number of Peter, trying to ignore the tears starting to form in his eyes and the trembling of his hands.  
Before he could reconsider what he was doing, he had pressed the call button. He could only hear his rapidly drumming heartbeat, but far too soon his thoughts were interrupted when Peter answered, "Stiles?"

"Peter, we -", he started only to stop. Stiles didn't knew what he wanted to say. Hist mind was blank, his voice sounded too rough and he desperately tried to choke back his sobs.  
"Is everything okay? Stiles, are you all right?" He shook his head, realizing too late Peter couldn't see it. The concern in his voice made his heart ache just that little bit more, longing for some reassurance.

"I need to talk to you", he managed to whisper at last.  
"Where are you? Stiles?", the voice at the other end of the line paused, "Do you want me to come and get you?"  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Stiles again shook his head, "No, you ... don't need to do that."  
"Okay. Then look into the glove compartment."

"What?"  
"The glove compartment, Stiles. I know you have one and I can hear the engine of your jeep, so you should be able to -"  
"Why?", Stiles interrupted. He certainly wasn't up for one of Peter's games right now.  
"There's the key for my apartment."

Stiles couldn't breathe. For a brief moment he stared through the front window out into the dark night, motionless, before he began to giggle hysterically, "But I don't even know where you live!"  
"I know, I'm sorry", Peter hesitated once more, "but there is a key tag with my address."

Stiles almost lost his mobile in his haste to get the keys, but as soon as he held them in his hands they felt like home, a heavy weight that he did not ever let go of during the drive to Peter's apartment.


	2. Make Friends

Stiles was sure the Pack didn't know about him and Peter.  
He didn't care whether they knew or not and neither he nor Peter were hiding it in any way, but they weren't as obvious about their 'thing' as most others were with their relationships, either.

Anyway, even if the Pack didn't know about them and even if they hadn't noticed the changes in Peter's behavior before, they would soon, at least if they weren't all so completely narrow-minded like they appeared to be.  
One could not simply ignore how often Peter had helped them in the last three months.

He had directed their attention to a deadly fairy that had caused his father quite a headache with all those unsolved murders. The victims had hung impaled on branches in the treetops of the forest. Peter had also given them the necessary information about trolls that the Pack needed to find the one wreaking havoc in their territory.  
Just last week he had risked his life while asking around for the witch they had been searching.

What surprised even Stiles, however, was Peter offering to fight on the Pack's side when their opponent was a mob of centaurs. Never before had he volunteered to participate in direct confrontations.  
Before they had started dating, Stiles had been wondering whether Peter really was in no shape to fight or just didn't want to take any risks.

Now, that they spent more and more time together, he realized that Peter was indeed weak, considering he should have the strength and healing abilities of a werewolf.  
And with that little fact in mind, he wasn't exactly surprised to see Peter in the bathroom, wrapping a new bandage around his chest where he had been hit during the fight yesterday. "Come on, let me help you."

Peter sighed, but allowed Stiles to take the ends of the white material and gently place them over the still visible bruises.  
Despite his slow movements, the older man hissed in pain and leaned back against the sink where he had tried to tie a knot in front of the mirror.  
His jaw set, Stiles silently finished his task and watched Peter cautiously pulling his shirt back over his head.

He had only planned on checking on the other one before driving to school, but it seemed as if he was needed here for more than just a quick good morning kiss. The man was barely able to stand straight, huffing with every false twist of his upper body.  
Frustrated, Stiles grit out, "Why did you do it? Why did you even fight when you knew exactly it would be dangerous? Were you just trying to be nice and make friends?"  
Come on, you know me better than that", Peter snorted.

Exasperated, Stiles turned away, ready to leave, but he stopped in the doorway.  
Turning back towards the werewolf, he raised an eyebrow, "How did you convince Scott and Derek to let you come with them? I know they always complain that you don't fight, but I doubt they really want you to."

Peter ignored his question and instead attempted to go past him.  
Squaring his shoulders, Stiles crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. He knew the older one could still shove him back and walk by, but he didn't think he would risk more pain.

In fact, Peter narrowed his eyes at him, "It is an advantage to care about the same things."  
Confused, Stiles blinked, "What?"  
"I knew that if it was not me fighting, Scott would ask you. They needed another person and none of us wanted you there, so I was the only option. I may not be at my best, but I can still heal faster than you."

"Oh yeah?", Stiles rolled his eyes, "You ever want your strength back, Peter? Just go fight some centaurs. Way to go!"  
He abruptly turned around, but before he could leave, Peter grabbed his wrist and pulled him back, "Maybe you're right, maybe you should have been the one to get hurt, but - what's it called? - at least I made some friends by not letting you go and get hurt."

Stiles grumbled at the quote, but refrained from telling Peter that no one, including Stiles himself, wanted Peter at a fight scene either, albeit he was sure his reasons were a bit different from Scott's.


	3. Go Public

It had developed so slowly over the course of the last four months that Stiles hadn't even noticed it himself.  
It was Scott who realized it first or, at least, he was the one to complain first. The others had only been staring, making Stiles feel just that little bit more uncomfortable to know something was different, if not plain wrong.

Scott's very eloquent remark about it had been 'that's disturbing'.  
Later, Stiles was informed that the disturbing part was not that it was happening between Stiles and Peter or rather that Peter was the one responsible, but that it had become a familiar sight that quickly.

It had all started with Peter holding doors open for him.  
Whether they were in Derek's loft where everyone noticed sooner or later or whether they were simply buying groceries and, of course, especially on dates.  
At first Stiles hadn't thought much of it because Peter may not be the most noble person in the world, but he was polite if he wanted to and charming enough.

Then the older one began pulling out chairs, so that Stiles could sit down in these fancy restaurants Peter seemed to like to visit, and later even in his own apartment when he had cooked for the two of them.  
Stiles had laughed about the silly gesture he only knew from romantic movies and maybe from the memories of his parents in which the Sheriff acted around his wife like a real gentleman.

In contrast, the little pecks, that Peter began giving him in public to annoy Scott and Derek, made him blush at the beginning, before he relished these affections that he knew and loved from when they were alone.  
It was unusual for the other one to express his feelings and though he still wouldn't say as much, these soft and gentle kisses, however short they were, reminded Stiles that Peter felt at least something for him, even if he didn't show it often when they were surrounded by others.

Then there was the hand holding. Actually, it was Stiles who started it when they were in a horror movie and he wasn't sure whether he should be afraid of the monster or laugh at the stupidity of its victims.  
As opposed to his expectations, however, Peter didn't let go of him when they went out after the movie had finished and they were just straying around like any other couple.  
Back then, Stiles had reasoned it was because it had been a cold night and Peter's hands were always warm, but now it was a sign of belonging and holding together.

Anyway, right now, they were in the book shop that Stiles had wanted to go to for over a month. Of course, Peter had held the door open, so Stiles could enter before him, and they had only parted to find what each of them searched for himself.  
The werewolf seemed to know the shop owner, who stood behind the register, since the were chatting like old friends. Stiles could imagine Peter going here often, because the variety of books was quite astonishing.

It was so difficult to learn something about Peter, without actually asking, that Stiles couldn't help but to listen to them talking.  
Besides, it was his birthday and he was allowed to be curious, after all, Peter had demanded they would go today and not last weekend, when they would have had time, too.  
"So this is for him?", the man questioned and Stiles felt them both staring at his back, wanting to make sure he was out of hearing range. Peter replied in an even lower voice, making it difficult to understand him, "Yeah, it's his birthday present."

"Never seen you with him here before. So who's the boy?", the shop owner asked interested. "We got together only recently. I didn't want you to scare him away", Peter chuckled and Stiles huffed offended.  
They had gotten over the murders Peter committed and the fact that Stiles had helped to kill him. It wasn't as if he would just run away now, because he didn't like one of the older one's acquaintances or a discussion didn't go well.

Stiles was so caught up in his little tirade that he almost overheard the next words. "He's your boyfriend then?"  
Straining his ears, he tensely hold his breath. Peter and he had never really talked about what they were. It was definitely more than just attraction, but Stiles wasn't so sure about the love part yet.

He hadn't wanted to pressure Peter into something, content with what they had, and the other one wasn't exactly the type of person to offer up explanations. On the other hand, Peter usually said what he wanted, that's if he wanted something, but they had not discussed whether this was something brief or long-term, whether they were allowed to meet other people or anything like that.  
Stiles was perfectly happy, being with Peter, and the werewolf had said nothing contradictory. But Peter was silent for a moment, before he answered.

"Yes. Yes, Stiles is my boyfriend."  
Maybe he just imagined it, but Peter sounded proud, not unsure in the least. Stiles really liked the sound of that little statement and he definitely wanted to hear it more often. Such a confession was the best birthday gift Peter could possibly give him.


	4. Three Words

It was just another day, when it happened. Really, there was nothing special about this Sunday, no anniversary, not even a holiday.  
The only unusual thing at this day was that they had it just for themselves. There were no creatures lurking around, no danger awaiting and the best: Stiles didn't even have homework to do.

He had spend the day doing some research for fun, with Peter telling him stories or helping him discern fact and fiction, before he had gone home and cooked his father something healthy to eat after work.  
Just in case, Stiles had also left the Sheriff a note, saying he might only be back by the next morning, telling him, he was having a sleepover at a friend's house.

Stiles was pretty sure, his father knew that wasn't the truth, or at least not the whole truth, but until now he hadn't questioned him.  
For a moment he wondered whether Melissa and his Dad were having meetings, discussing the antics of their teenage boys because of all the secrets he and Scott were harboring lately, still trying to keep their parents out of their supernatural problems.  
And out of their relationships, but that was for a totally different reason.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles watched Peter read his just recently bought crime novel, already at one of the last chapters. He chuckled slightly at how focused the older one appeared, lost in solving the case.  
He could almost imagine his partner sticking out his tongue in concentration or biting his lip in anticipation. But no matter how distracted Peter seemed, he didn't ever stop running his hands through Stiles' hair.

He felt like a cat, ready to purr at any moment or sink into the softness of the fluffy carpet he sat on in front of the couch. But then he'd lose the warm contact of the other man's hand. A little lost in thought, Stiles idly zapped around, looking for something to concentrate on so as to not fall asleep. He wanted to indulge in the comforting feeling of Peter's touch a little longer.  
He heard the rustle of paper, when the older one turned another page, but didn't think anything of it, not until Peter shifted and pulled back his hand.

"I've never told you that I love you, have I?"  
Stiles slowly tilted his head and stared up at Peter, blinking, "Um, no. But you don't have to, it's fine with-"  
"I love you."  
"Oh", he bit his lip, thinking for a second, "Do you want some kind of answer to that one? 'Cause, you know, this was kinda unexpected and I forgot the great speech I've written and prepared in front of my mirror at home."

Peter simply raised an eyebrow, his fingers gently pushing some untamed strands out of Stiles' eyes.  
"Eh, thank you, I guess. I mean, I knew or, at least, I assumed as much. Well, 'hoped' is probably the better word here." He began fiddling with the hem of his shirt, "I love you, too. If that's what you're waiting for."

He could see that Peter tried to keep a straight face, but the serious aura was destroyed by the twinkling of his eyes. When the corner of his mouth twitched, Stiles had to laugh, "Stop staring."  
The older one chuckled softly and leaned down, nuzzling Stiles' neck, hot breath ghosting over pale skin, "Okay."  
He grumbled and sat up straighter, attempting to catch Peter's lips, but the other man pulled back, teasing him with only a little peck, and smirked.

Stiles narrowed his eyes and dragged his partner back down, this time meeting his lips. He tugged at the hair at the back of Peter's head, drawing him closer.  
When the older one pulled him onto the couch, Stiles instantly snuggled up to him and rested his forehead against Peter's shoulder.  
The werewolf began tracing a hand down his back, the other one cupping his face, fingers brushing over his cheek, and whispered into his ear, "God, I love you. I love you so much."

Stiles grinned, "Are you trying to make up for half a year without any declarations of your love or are planning on seducing me here?"  
"Hmm, I'm not sure yet", Peter hummed, placing a short kiss on the tip of his nose, "Probably, a little bit of both, if you don't mind."  
"Yeah, no. Actually, I'd like that."  
"Good."


	5. Official Blessing

Stiles really should have seen it coming. He had known he couldn't hide his relationship from his father forever and he hadn't planned to, but it startled him when one day his father suddenly asked when he would finally say who it was he was dating.  
In fact, he was so unprepared he didn't even tell his father that it was a man and no girl he was together with.

Even after his father had seen him at the gay club where they Kanima had attacked and the following discussion about whether he was gay or not, Stiles never exactly got around to tell his father he was bi.  
But he had promised he'd organize a meeting, so now he sat together with his father in the living room and waited for Peter to appear and rescue him from the awkward silence in the house.

While he more or less unconsciously clenched and unclenched his hands, all he could think about was how his father would react to Peter being the one to come.  
He wasn't sure how much his father knew about Kate Argent burning down the Hale house and Peter committing those murders back then as acts of revenge after he had awoken from his coma and disappeared from the hospital.  
Conveniently, Stiles had also forgotten to mention that it was Peter who turned Scott and therefore changed his life into the mess it was now.

Just when he was about to check his mobile for the umpteenth time, the door bell rang and Stiles practically jumped from the couch to run to the door and open it.  
Without so much as a hello kiss, he stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him.  
Before he could say anything, though, he noticed that Peter appeared chubbier. He was by no means fat, but there was an additional inch or two on each side.  
If Peter didn't such wear tight clothes all the time, Stiles probably wouldn't even have noticed it. He doubted his father would, but, poking Peter in his stomach, he knew it was the thought that counted.

Peter was as nervous as Stiles.  
"Please, don't tell me you're wearing a bulletproof vest."  
The older one raised an eyebrow, "This is no unreasonable behavior, considering your father is the Sheriff, owns a gun and knows about werewolves. Anyway, I'm twenty years older than you, Stiles. You're not of age and I know what this has to look like."

"Are you afraid or what?"  
"No", Peter drawled, "I'm just prepared to run for my life. I don't want another Stilinski to end it yet again." The other man smirked, "Shall we?"  
Taking a deep breath, Stiles clasped Peter's hand and entwined their fingers, ready to face his father.

With his partner at his side, he opened the door again and lead Peter into the living room where his father still sat. "Dad? This is my boyfriend, Peter Hale."  
"Hi, Mr. Stilinksi", Peter smiled, the tension in his shoulders barely visible when he waved a hand.

"Well", the Sheriff pursed his lips, standing up to meet them, "this certainly explains the growing number of claw marks at your window sill, Stiles", he slid a hand down his face, "but not your clothes."  
Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, managing only a weak a smile, "Ah, yes, about that -"  
"I'd suggest, the next time you want to come over, Peter, you walk through the front door", his father interrupted him, shaking his head somewhat amused maybe.

The Sheriff offered their guest a hand that the other man shook after only a brief moment of hesitation, looking completely taken by surprise, "There will be a next time, sir?"  
"Oh, that will depend on you - the both of you - but I trust my son to know what he's doing. And I'm sure, you are aware that Chris would be more than happy to help me make -"  
"Dad!", Stiles groaned inwardly, hissing, "No death threats! Interrogation: acceptable, albeit unnecessary; but don't get carried away with your overprotective-father-act before dinner."

His father's eyes crinkled mischievously, "Then let's get dinner over with, alright?"  
The Sheriff sauntered into the kitchen, leaving him and his partner alone.  
Stiles squeezed the older one's hand, before he was pulled into a quick side-way hug, Peter searching his eyes and murmuring curiously, "What was that about your clothes?"


End file.
